Authors: Elizabeth Vaughan
By dawn, Rahel could not be roused. She lay silent, still, and unresponsive.
I was exhausted, and filled with chagrin at my folly. I should have listened to her, forced her to tell me everything while she was conscious and talking. I should have heeded her warnings, but I had not believed that a disease could kill so very swiftly.
I knelt by Epor, sleeping in the blankets that Isdra had vacated. They'd traded off during the night. A touch of my hand on his shoulder, and his eyes were open. He sat up when he got a good look at my face. "Warprize?"
"We need to go to the healer's home, Epor. I need to see what she was trying to do before you brought her here."
Epor glanced at the beds. "The man?"
"Dead." I refused to look at the body. I'd covered his face, and my failure, with a blanket.
Epor stood, gathering his weapons. His eyes flicked to the corner where the babe rested.
"She's well, at least?" he asked gruffly.
"So far."
Epor led the way, and I followed him out into the main room. Isdra was just inside the door, seated on one of the benches, positioned so that she could see out into the square. She made no comment as we approached, just lifted an eyebrow.
"A scouting run." Epor spoke softly, tightening his mask. "Anything?"
"All's quiet." Isdra stood. "The others?"
"The babe is well. The woman still lives. The man is dead." I didn't really want to discuss the details. Thankfully, Isdra was content with my response.
"We'll finish the search when we return." Epor looked out over the square, and the light that was growing steadily. "No sign of the crazed one?"
"None."
"Heat some kavage for us, eh? We won't be long."
Isdra gave him a smile, and a nod. "I'll see to the babe."
Epor stepped to the doors, and I moved to stand next to him. The light was growing brighter, but the walls and the house made deep shadows around the edge. Epor put his hand on my shoulder. "You will stay with me, and do as I say. If I say run, you will come back here, yes?"
"I will."
He moved then, at a fairly rapid pace, around the square, staying in the shadows as much as he could. He'd stop every few paces, listening. I'd stop too, but my heart was beating so fast that I would not have heard an army approaching. It was scaring me, that he thought this was necessary.
The healer's clinic was off the square, in a small alleyway. Epor went in first, urging me to stay pressed against the wall next to the door. It was a small area, just the two rooms and a loft above, much like the house we'd gone in the day before. Epor returned quickly, and gestured me into the back room. "This is it, Warprize. The room above has only beds with the dead in them."
It was her stillroom, filled with familiar scents and the cloying odor of death. The room was in disarray, as if it had been used in haste. There were pots of fever's foe over by the fire, still in the cauldrons. I found half-ground dittany and watermint on the tables. She'd tried them, as she had said.
Epor stood at the door, shifting his gaze from me to the other room and the outer door. He was making no secret of his impatience, but I wasn't to be rushed.
The old schools of healing taught that you kept your best recipes and discoveries to yourself, calling them the secrets of the trade. Eln took a different approach, teaching that all knowledge must be shared to make us all better healers. If Rahel was of the old school, she'd have hidden her notes and recipes somewhere. I only hoped that Rahel had not guarded her secrets too well.
It took a bit of poking around, but I found rolls of notes in a canister on a high shelf. I put that in my satchel, along with the notes. With any luck, she'd taken some notes about the process of this plague.
Epor coughed. "Warprize…"
"One last thing," I moved to his side. "I want to see the bodies upstairs."
"Quickly."
I moved up the stairs as quickly as I could. It was warmer here and the smell was that much stronger. I was grateful for the ginger cloth over my nose and throat, but even that couldn't cover the smell. I stepped to the nearest bed and pulled back the blanket. There were no visible wounds on the body. He lay on his back, as if asleep. The cups and jars on the table between the bed held fever's foe and dittany. I looked at the other man, and had to pause, thinking for some reason that I had seen him before. I studied the face, but death had left his mark and I wasn't sure if—"Warprize."
I replaced the blankets and moved to leave when a pile of clothing caught my attention.
Quickly I held up the top garment, then shuffled through the rest of the pile. These were priestly garments, worn by the priests of the Sun God. What were they doing here?
"Warprize."
This time, Epor was at the bottom of the stairs, and not to be denied. I turned to go and took a step, when a noise came from behind me.
From under one of the beds.
I froze, holding my breath. At the bottom of the steps, Epor frowned at me. "Lara, we need to
—"
"I think—" I turned to look, but I was too slow. The man sprang from under the bed, barreled into me, throwing me to the side. As I fell to the floor, he leaped down on Epor with a snarl.
"Epor!" I called out as I staggered to my feet. There were sounds of a furious struggle below, with grunts and howls from the sick man. I clattered down the stairs, to see them rolling together on the floor. "Epor, don't hurt him!"
Epor gave me an exasperated look, even as he tried to pin the man down. The man put up a furious struggle, using fists and teeth to win free of Epor. Epor had him pinned when the man craned his neck and bit Epor on the arm.
Epor spat a curse. The man escaped, scrambled to his feet, and ran into the still room, with Epor right behind. I winced at the sounds of breaking crockery.
By the time I got to the door, Epor had the man on the ground, and pinned. "Get some rope."
"Rope?" I looked about wildly.
The man heaved under Epor, trying to break free. Epor panted with the effort to keep the man down. "Get something!"
I reached for a pile of cloth, and handed him some bandages. Epor muttered something under his breath, flipped the man over, and hit him in the jaw. The man collapsed, moaning.
"Epor."
"Sorry." His eyes crinkled in a smile that proved he wasn't. "He may be sick, Lara, but he's strong. As well for me that he's no warrior, eh?" Teeth flashing, Epor heaved the man over his shoulder. "Let's get him bound to the bed before he wakes."
As we crossed the square, a warble rose from outside the walls. Even I knew that Joden was asking our status. Epor tilted his head, and warbled what I assumed were reassurances. He looked at me with a question in his eyes, and I knew I had to make a decision. "Tell them to send the message that it is the Sweat."
Even as he raised his voice, I prayed that I was doing the right thing.
It was no problem to secure him, the man was still unconscious from Epor's blow. The bite had just broken the skin on Epor's arm, but I insisted that I clean and bandage the wound. Isdra made a few pointed comments about the difference between helping and hurting my patient.
Epor protested his innocence, asking if anyone was concerned about his welfare. They bickered a bit as they carried out the body of the archer.
The new patient was still sweating heavily, rank with the stench. For the first time, I was considering drugging a patient into cooperating with me. If the lotus kept him asleep, perhaps I could get water into him to replace the fluid he'd lost. Re-balance the elements in his body, as Keir had told me once. I flushed at the memory. But to give lotus to someone could also cause the deep sleep I was trying to avoid.
Deep in those thoughts, I checked on Rahel. She was still unresponsive, but I managed to get her to swallow some broth. Not much, but it was something. With that faint hope, I turned back to the man. Maybe a very small dose would aid him.
Epor and Isdra returned. They obviously washed before coming in. Isdra shook her head.
"He's still out?"
"Yes." They started to settle by the fire, and I frowned. "Aren't you going to finish the search?"
"I don't want to leave you alone with that one." Epor responded.
"From what Epor says he could awaken and break his bonds." Isdra replied. "Best we stay here."
"No, you need to finish the search." I reached for my bag, digging for the lotus. "I will scream if he looks like he is breaking free."
Epor shrugged. "I'm too tired to fight you, Lara. We'll be as fast as we can."
Isdra stood as well. "We'll scrounge for breakfast as well."
I looked up with a guilty start, and Epor laughed. "See? Does the Warprize consider my empty belly?"
"I didn't think—"
"Don't let him tease you, Lara." Isdra rolled her eyes. "Like he doesn't have a pouch of gurt on his belt?"
"If it were up to the Warprize, I'd starve to death!" Epor led the way from the room. "Nothing but skin and bones, yes?"
Isdra made a comment that I couldn't hear, but I heard Epor's laughter ring out in response. It made me smile.
But that faded when I turned back to my patients.
The lotus helped, but not as much as I'd hoped. He woke eventually, but he remained crazed, yelling and crying out. He fought the bonds until the skin on his wrists was rubbed raw with the effort. I could get no medicine or water into him, for he'd spew out anything I poured into his mouth. I talked until I was hoarse, but all he could do was curse me, in anger and fear, and for the most part his words were past understanding.
Epor and Isdra returned before the worst of it. There was no one with them, and their faces told me the horrible truth. Rahel, the babe, and the man were all that were left of a thriving village.
My eyes filled as I turned back to my work.
For hours, we worked together in the cramped room, trying to rouse Rahel and break the fever of the man she had called Kred. Despite our struggles they were both slipping through my fingers like sand, and faded with each breath. Kred lapsed into the lassitude just as Rahel breathed her last quiet breath. I pulled the blanket over her face, and settled back on my heels by her bedside. All her knowledge gone, all these people gone. I'd risked our lives for nothing.
Tired, I lifted my hands to rub at the ache in my temples, knowing that I had failed these people.
The babe chose that moment to cry out, unhappy about something. Isdra was there in an instant, but Epor scowled. "Can't you keep her quiet?"
The irritation in his voice cause both of us to look at him in surprise but Epor already had a hand up in apology. "Sorry. Tired, I guess."
Isdra accepted it, and turned back to the babe. But I focused on Epor and really looked at him.
At the furrow between his eyes, and the stiff way he held his head. "Epor?"
He straightened, empty buckets in his hands, and gave me a weak smile. I took a step closer to see the sweat on his forehead.
Goddess, no…
"So. I will be the first of the Plains to face this enemy."
Epor put his warclub on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He began to fumble with the buckles of his armor, but his hands were shaking badly. Isdra stepped close, reaching out to help him. He was already sweating heavily, and I could see the pain in his eyes from the headache. I ground a dose of lotus as fast as I could. Isdra was grim as she released the straps, and helped him off with the heavy leather. Epor used his finger to lift her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. "You fear this."
Isdra moved her head aside. "I fear nothing." She tugged his tunic up and over his head.
"You fear this, Isdra." Epor spoke again, his voice soft and insistent.
Isdra stopped what she was doing, and looked at him. "I am Isdra of the Fox, warrior of the Plains. I fear nothing."
Epor put his hands on her hips to pull her close. "But you fear this."
Isdra sighed, and her hands grew still. "Epor—"
He put his finger over her mouth and gently rubbed it on her lower lip. It was a private moment but I could not look away. Finally, Isdra let out a puff of air against his finger. "I fear this," she admitted.
Epor nodded, and sat down heavily on the bed. "Is that so hard to say?" Epor looked at her calmly. "A true warrior faces the very thing he fears, yes?"
Isdra growled. Epor pulled her close, laying his head on her breast. "I will defeat this enemy, and Joden will craft a song to my glory."
"You'd best. Or Joden will sing only of our deaths. That will please Iften no end, and hurt our tribes and our Warlord."
"How so?" I asked.
Isdra hesitated for just a moment. "We are bonded, and as such are valued by the tribes. We spoke of this before. For Keir to lose us in less than honorable combat would shame him."
"Truth." Epor hung his head down, as if gathering strength. He lifted his head, and looked at Isdra. "But all will be well, fire of my heart."
"Shut up, and help me get these clothes off of you." Isdra snapped.
Epor chuckled. "Heyla, Lara. Would you hear a tale of the strength of my bonded?"
Isdra flushed as she knelt at his feet to unlace his boots.
Curious, I paused in preparing the doses. 'Tell me, Epor."
"Well, this one, she says to me that we're to bond. Being a wise man, I agreed to her demands, not eager to face her anger."
Epor grabbed the bottom of his tunic, but got it stuck trying to pull it off. Isdra rose to help him.
"So, on the day of bonding, Isdra sat first for the spiral to be woven in her ear. All had gathered, and my Isdra sat, so beautiful and so determined not to utter a sound."
Epor's head disappeared as Isdra pulled off his under tunic. His voice was muffled by the shirt.
"Does it hurt, Epor? The weaving?" I asked as I mixed the lotus in water.
"The piercing hurts, for it takes time for the ear to heal. Once the holes are in, it's not so bad.
But my Isdra didn't flinch or cry out, for she is a Warrior of the Plains, strong, tough, and proud."
Isdra knelt at his feet to finish removing his boots. "It was to honor you."
"And I was honored." Epor took a deep breath, and I gave him a sharp look. He was suffering, I could see that. I offered him the cup. He took it, and drank it down quickly, with only a light wrinkling of his nose at the taste and continued where he'd left off. "It was then my turn. I sat before the weaver, and at the first touch of his needle…" He paused dramatically, "I screamed like a baby."
I laughed at the image. "Really?"
"Oh yes," Isdra sat back on her heels. "He carried on, weeping and wailing, saying that to bond with me was worth any pain, any suffering. He had the weaver and the watchers and the witnesses all laughing so hard they cried."
"Who can I mock, if I cannot mock myself?" Epor asked hoarsely.
"I will let no one mock you, my brave warrior." Isdra's voice broke as she stood and finished stripping Epor. His energy was waning before my eyes. Never before had a patient weakened so visibly, so fast, even as the beads of sweat gathered on his face. I'd lost the others. I'd not lose him.
Isdra folded his clothes off to the side as I helped Epor settle into the bed. She went to place his weapons at his side, but Epor stopped her. "No."
She looked at him, startled, then over at me. I shook my head as well. "If he raves…"
She gave a sharp nod, and placed the weapons, all of them, in the far corner by the hearth. The warclub she set down last, as if to guard the others.
"You must bind me." Epor's voice was low and rough.
Isdra balked at that. "I can control—"
"No. Take no chances with this enemy. Remove your own weapons, Isdra. For I am a dangerous and clever opponent."
Isdra nodded, unable to answer. My own throat closed as we tied his wrists to the bed frame, down at his sides. He insisted that we secure his feet as well. Only after testing the strength of the bonds did he relax onto the bed, his eyes closed. We covered him with a blanket.
Isdra moved off, removing her own weapons as instructed. I gathered the necessary vials, and pulled two buckets of water closer to the bed. I wrung out a cloth and started wiping his face and chest. Isdra did the same. We were silent for a few moments, when Epor's eyes fluttered open. They were vague and unfocused, telling me that the lotus was starting to work. He focused on Isdra and smiled. "You are my bonded, my heart's fire, and I am yours, to the snows and beyond."
"Do not speak of the snows." Isdra whispered as she wiped his chest.
"You must promise me…" Epor cleared his throat. "You must promise me to remain at the Warprize's side for as long as she needs you."
Isdra looked off, caught my eye and looked at the floor.
"No." Epor tugged slightly at his bonds and Isdra reached out to cover his hand with hers.
"Promise me."
She leaned down, her lips close to his ear. "You must fight this, Epor."
"I will." He gave her a smile, a far shadow from his normal grin. "But you must promise."
Isdra closed her eyes. For a long moment, the only sound was Epor's breathing. Then her grey eyes opened, and she nodded slowly. "I promise."
I should have listened to the old healer, should have heeded her warning. She was right. It was too fast. Too fast for the medicines to take effect. Too fast to break the fever. Too fast for us to be able to balance his humors, replace his fluids.
It started well. The lotus seemed to calm him. But the Sweat was a vicious enemy, and as fast as we eased his fever the heat would rebuild in his skin. We labored hard, changing bedding, and using fresh water and rose oil to wipe him down. At first he'd respond to both of us, obeying our commands to swallow. But as the fever built, his eyes would only open at Isdra's call, and they held no awareness. Even that reaction failed in time and Isdra could no longer rouse him.
But worse was to come.
"Where is Isdra?" Epor mumbled, testing the restraints.
Isdra leaned closer. "I'm here, Epor."
Epor's eyes opened a crack, but his gaze slid right past her to me. "Where is my bonded? Why isn't she here?"
Isdra sucked in a breath, but I moved forward to answer. "She's right here, Epor."
"No, no, she's gone, my bonded has left me," Epor started to fight the restraints with a passion, shaking the bed. "Where has she gone?"
Isdra was speechless, white and shivering. I touched her arm. "It's the fever, Isdra. He's raving."
"His eyes are open…" She looked at me in doubt.
"But he does not see." I reached for the water and cloths. "Keep talking to him, Isdra."
She jerked her head in agreement, but the pain never left her eyes. We kept talking, both of us, trying to convince Epor that Isdra was there, that she would never leave him. But he couldn't be comforted or reassured. He became very agitated, demanding that we release him so that he could find her. It broke our hearts to hear the pain in his voice.
Worse still, he fell into the stupor without realizing that she was there. Isdra's tears did not start until Epor lapsed into the lethargy and would not wake. Still, we tried to force liquids into him, with no success. In the end we sat in silence, each holding a hand. Every breath was a painful rasp, each inhale a victory, every exhale a fear.
At the last, Epor opened his eyes as he drew in a final rasping breath. Isdra leaned over, stroking his head. He focused on her face, and gave her a weak smile, closed his eyes, and exhaled. The beat of his heart under my fingers stopped even as his breath faded.
Isdra stared at me, the knowledge building within her until her face crumbled and her eyes closed.
I sagged back on my heels, sweat beading on my forehead, weak with anger and fear and a headache pounding between my eyes. What killed a healthy man in so few hours? What had I done wrong?
"Epor." Isdra's voice cracked. I looked over as she took his right hand in hers and waited for a response. When none came, she reached over for his left hand. "Epor of the Badger."
"Isdra, he's—"
I cut myself off as she nodded, and moved so that she could grasp his left foot. She called his name again, tears running down her face. The silence echoed as she grasped his right foot, and drew in a deep breath that ended in a sob. "Epor, my soul's delight, beloved, please."
My weeping was her only answer.
She knelt at his feet, her head bowed, for a long moment. When she finally lifted her head, her face was streaked with tears. With effort, she rose and went to her weapons and pulled her dagger, sharp and bright. She returned to cut his bonds, freeing him from the restraints. Once that was accomplished, she eased down to kneel by Epor's head. She stroked his hair and placed her lips at his ear. "I'll see you beyond the snows, my heart's fire."
She sat back, and turned her streaked face to me. I offered a cloth, but she refused. "The wind will take them, Warprize."
I used the cloth to wipe my own tears, trying to bring myself under control and then sat working the cloth between my hands.
We might have sat like that for hours, awash in grief, but the babe wailed from her blankets, and kicked with her feet. Isdra turned her head dully, then rose to see to her needs. I remembered my other patient, and turned to his bed, only to find that he had died as well, unnoticed and untended. Guilt brought more tears to my eyes as I pulled the blanket over his face. I'd never once looked at him after Epor had taken ill. Some healer I was. All my patients, dead at my hands. An entire village, gone. I lowered my aching head into my hands and wept for the loss and my incompetence.
I could hear Isdra chanting to the babe even as I cried. Those low tones were a comfort, and I managed to get myself under control as I listened. My head hurt too much to think beyond the horror of the last few hours. But eventually I felt cool fingers on my neck, and I let Isdra pull me up and over to the hearth. She settled me in the chair, and wiped my face with a cool cloth, Once I'd had something to drink, she sat back on her heels and looked at me solemnly.
"The babe?" I croaked.
"Well." Isdra continued to study me silently.
I let my gaze drift over to the bodies on the beds. I felt so helpless, with no energy left to deal with the tasks ahead. I slumped in the chair, and closed my eyes in despair.
"The enemy has you, Lara."
It took me long moments for Isdra's words to sink in, and even longer for me to open my eyes and face the truth. I stared at her, numb. She reached over, and wiped my face with a cool wet cloth. I put my hand up to feel my own forehead. "I'm sick?"
She nodded, her eyes resigned.
So. I drew in a deep breath and straightened in the chair. "You are well? And the babe?"
"Yes."
"You must take the babe and go. Bathe both of you in vinegar. Stay away from the others for forty days, Isdra.
Forty days. If you and the babe are still well, it will be safe to rejoin the others after forty days.
You understand?"
She tilted her head. "And you, Lara?"
I drew a breath, then used my sleeve to clear my eyes. "You leave, and set fire to the village.
That will take care of the dead, Isdra. Forty days, you understand?"
She stared at me, not asking the question I had not answered.
I sobbed, the pain in my head building. "Isdra, I ask for mercy. Kill me."
"That is not your way, Lara." She frowned, clearly unhappy with my request.
"I'll not risk you or the babe, or any of the others. Grant me mercy, Isdra, then burn the village and leave." I drew in a shuddering breath. "I command it. As the Warprize, I order—"
Isdra stood. "I will do what must be done, Warprize." She helped me out of the chair. My head had started to pound, and it was hard for me to think. I leaned on her gratefully, my feet made clumsy by the pain.
She took me out into the square and sat me by the well. The cold stone felt good on my back. I blinked in the sunlight. Isdra knelt at my side, reached out and pulled the damp hair off my face. "You must be sure about this, Lara."
"Isdra, grant me mercy. Kill me, take the babe and flee. But promise me," I clutched at her arm. "Promise me that you will stay apart. Keep Keir safe for me, Isdra. Please?"
"So." She set her shoulders back, as if relieved and grateful for the task. "You will be wild with fever soon. I will bind you here, to keep you from wandering." She gripped my wrists firmly and I watched as she bound them together with a bandage. Once that was done, she lifted my bound wrists to the windlass and secured them to the stout wood. I closed my eyes, holding my wrists high to make it easier for her.
She knelt before me again. "I must prepare the village, Lara and then do what must be done.
You understand?"
I bit my lip. "Do you promise?"
She nodded. "I will keep to my oaths."
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the stones, listening as her steps faded off.
The only sound was my ragged breathing. Even the larks were gone. But in the back of my head, I could hear the litany, a prayer for the dying and the dead. It seemed to ring in my ears as if I could hear the words echoing in the temple as they'd been chanted at my father's bedside …